


Mad World, Bad World

by I_am_a_Ruin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, Hunk is best boy, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith comes back with no explanation, Lance doesn't do contact, Mentions of Rape, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Victims, Touch Aversion, Trigger Warnings, everyone just wants the best for Lance, male rape victim, mentions of people not believing the victim, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-26 08:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14996837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_Ruin/pseuds/I_am_a_Ruin
Summary: Despite all his talk, Lance has a noticeable aversion to contact and the others begin to worry.





	1. Chaos after the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Thumbs Over Knuckles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002712) by [Quillium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillium/pseuds/Quillium). 



> Please proceed with caution. I did my best to avoid really going into too much detail with what entirely happened to Lance, but I really wanted to have this taken seriously. This matter is oftentimes joked about and victims are shamed instead of taken care of. It's not a joke, and the victim isn't a punchline. I felt it was important to show the readers how this has actually taken a toll on the character and even simple interactions with others. I personally have not had this experience, and can not hope to understand. However, I do hope I did it justice.  
> Anyways, just read the tags before going on with this.

It had always been apart of Lance, they just didn't really noticed. His outgoing personality and flirtation hid it well. He was boisterous and bouncy so little attempts at failed contact could be explained away easily. He was Lance, and always snuggly. He just looked and acted like the contact-desperate type. 

The others only picked up on it when airshows began. Fans would try to surround Lance for signatures and it was the exact kind of attention Lance always seemed to expect. Somehow, though, he would always manage to avoid them. 

He had a good excuse almost every time, once his flat out lies about actually signing them started falling flat. ‘I was too hot,’ ‘I was feeling sick to my stomach,’ ‘That last show really wore me out, I was falling asleep on my feet.’ 

No one really bought it, especially that last one. Lance seemed to  _ draw  _ energy from the fans and their excitement. He hardly even broke a sweat. Most days after, he would be rocking on from the balls of his feet to his toes, stretching upwards. He would be jittery, like he couldn’t wait to get back on those ribbons and keep putting on a show. 

“We can tell the fans no signatures if it really bugs you that much, Lance.” Shiro finally pointed out one day. 

Lance looked up from Pidge who he had been recounting the events of some old adventure with Hunk. “What? No. I don’t mi-”

“We absolutely will not do that! We would lose viewers. We have to sign whatever they ask, especially you Lance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you keep avoiding them.” Coran pointed out. Pidge still didn’t like how he was acting. Everything about it was wrong.

“Okay, I just think my name will lose value if I sign whatever dumb thing they bring up to me.” Lance huffed. 

It was such a douchey comment that Pidge gave up on the whole conversation and decided to retire to her room. But then she noticed how Lance flinched so hard away from her when she passed. Her shoulder had been about to brush him, but she wasn’t close enough to actually knock into him. It was a total overreaction. She watched his eyes flick down to her and then he immediately turned away as if Hunk had just said something really important.

Maybe there was more to this than Lance was letting on, and the others were thinking the same.

****

Lance couldn’t breathe. His lungs felt like they were collapsing with the strain of trying to supply themselves with enough oxygen to survive. His hands trembled, running over his pants, his jacket, his arms, his hair, his neck as if scrambling for something anything to ground him. It felt like dying, like drowning with no anchor to the surface. 

And then Hunk appeared, “Lance, hey, okay. Is it okay if I touch your face?”

Lance shook his head frantically, his skin crawling hot and stomach rolling at the thought. 

“Okay, Lance. I need you to breathe with me, can you do that?” Hunk was gentle, hands up for Lance to see. 

“Can’t. I can’t, I can’t I can’t. He-” Lance was squeezing his arms so hard, trying to not topple to the ground. His knees were a jelly consistency at that point near incapable of keeping him standing.

“He isn’t here, Lance. You can breathe. I can help you, it’s just counting. You don’t even have to do the counting.” Hunk’s voice was level, calm. It was Lance’s lighthouse in the storm.

Lance needed to count, he needed that control. He couldn’t let him control anything, not again. Not again, God. He could feel those large hands on his stomach, on the small of his back, holding him still. He was going to be sick. 

“One,” Hunk began, snapping his fingers to get Lance’s attention back on him. 

“One,” Lance repeated. 

Hunk nodded. “You can count yourself, if it helps. But you need to do it in your head, okay?”

Lance mimicked the nod.  _ One, two, three, four. Hold, one, two. Out, one, two… _

The tension in his chest eased; his head stopped throbbing like it was going to explode. Hunk smiled. “Good, that’s good. Do you want to keep breathing or-”

“Cook, please. Please, let’s just. Go cook dinner and talk.”

“Okay, come on.” 

Hunk even let him leave the room first.

****

“Guys, something’s definitely wrong. You would have thought I tried to stab his mother by the look on his face, but I was just… trying to give him a hand up.” Keith frowned. “Surely he doesn’t hate me that much for joining the Blade.”

“I too have noticed this kind of behavior from Lance.” Allura piped up, hand pausing its petting of one of the larger mice that liked to curl up on her stomach. “I had assumed this was just common for humans.”

“It’s definitely not. Humans actually require physical contact. Babies, especially, will die without it.” Pidge said from her perch on the couch’s arm.

Shiro crossed his arms. “Maybe that’s why he was so uncomfortable with signing for the shows.” 

“I vote Shiro to talk to him.” Pidge said. Everyone else turned to look at Shiro and nodded.

“Hold, on. It’s not affecting Voltron, why do we need to talk to Lance about it?” Hunk finally spoke up. He had been looking uncomfortable for several minutes now, but the others were just now noticing.

“You know what’s wrong, don’t you?” Keith inquired, drawing closer to Hunk.

“What? No. I mean, okay, yes. But, I just think maybe it’s none of our business-” Hunk visibly began to stress, hands up defensively.

“Maybe you could tell us.” Allura suggested.

“Yeah, come on. We just want to help.” Keith frowned, crossing his arms.

“Guys, seriously. It’s just a personal thing. You should really leave it be.” Hunk rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Guys? Are we having a meeting without Lancey-Lance?” Lance asked, the door whooshing shut behind him as he entered the room. 

Shiro went to set his hand on Lance’s shoulder, but the minute he made contact, Lance’s eyes became silver dollar huge. He shrunk in on himself and all but fled the room. 

“Um, well. I’m going to go make dinner, now.” Hunk said awkwardly as the room fell silent in surprise at Lance’s behavior.

“No, you need to tell us what’s going on. He is clearly going through something and-” Keith caught Hunk’s sleeve as he tried to exit.

Hunk yanked his arm away. “Just let me freaking comfort my friend, okay? It’s none of your business.” 

Keith watched him leave before turning to the others who were all staring at him in surprise. “I’ve… I’ve never seen him blow up like that.”

Shiro sighed. “I think it’s best we leave it be, like Hunk said. If Lance wants to talk to us about it, he will.

****

Lance wasn’t sure why this was such a frightening idea for him. It wasn’t his fault any of it had happened. The others weren’t going to treat him any different except in one way that really mattered, right? He could do this. And Hunk would be there. It’d be fine. 

“You really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Hunk said, taking in Lance’s shaky appearance.

“No, I need to. If Pidge can tell us she’s a girl, and Keith about being Galra-” Lance said, setting his jaw in determination.

“This isn’t the same thing though.” Hunk pointed out gently.

“I know, I just… I think it’ll help? Like I’m taking away some of that power. Holding it in… it just wells up until I think I’ll just explode… No, I need to tell them.” Lance nodded, looking to Hunk for reassurance. 

Hunk smiled, “You can do this. And I’ll be there the whole time. Just one word at a time.”

“Right.” Lance repeated the words like a mantra in his head as he stepped into the dining room. It wasn’t really dining room conversation, but somehow the distraction of food seemed grounding, settling. It was better than the living room-style rooms or a bedroom. Something lacking a triggering surface. It would make Lance’s job easier.

The others acknowledged his presence, Keith scooting over to make room for him, but Lance just shook his head. “I’m not really hungry right now, I just need to tell you guys something.”

His breath caught as they all looked to him. Fuck. Hunk whispered in his ear, “Can I take your hand?” 

And just that simple question, knowing that this wasn’t like with his uncle, this time he had control, gave Lance the strength he needed. He nodded and Hunk’s hand was warm and comforting in his. 

“Guys, I… uh, when I was ten, my uncle was living with my family for a period. He was,” deep breath. God, he hated even thinking about that man, his voice in Lance’s ear promising chocolate for silence and Hell for snitching, “um, between jobs.” Hunk squeezed his hand, giving him another soft smile, just a upwards turn to the corner of his mouth. He was okay. Light years away from that man. Another deep breath. “And he liked to come into my room some nights and…” 

His tongue was too big for his mouth. He could feel the breath on the back of his neck, reeking of cheap booze and cigars. Tight fingers were bruising his hips, and the vice hold around his hand was too much too much, he was wrenching his hand away-

“Hunk, Hunk, I can’t, I can’t.” 

“Lance, listen to me. He isn’t here, okay? You are safe.” 

Lance shook his head, hands pressing to his tear-filled eyes. “He is, I can feel... Can’t do this.”

“Lance, do you want to sit down for a minute?” Hunk offered, noticing instantly how much worse this was than usual.

Lance nodded emphatically, stumbling to the offered chair. Shiro knelt in front of him. 

“Hey, bud-” 

Hunk quickly intervened. “No nicknames when he’s panicking.”

Shiro nodded, already correcting himself at Hunk’s prompting, “Lance. You can hear my voice, right? All your friends are here, and you are safe. You have full control over this situation. We aren’t going to do anything you don’t want us to. We just want to make you happy, okay? I know you’re scared, so I want you to focus on this plate, okay?” 

Lance bit his tongue, trying to breathe through his nose and looked at the plate of neon green goo. That goo was alien, nothing he had ever seen on Earth. It’s coloring was too fluorescent. He was safe, this food was safe. It was not poisoned with memories of him. 

His breathing evened out slowly. He looked at everyone who was drawing nearer as he calmed down, looking so concerned. He just felt guilty, and focused back on the goo. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“Lance, is it okay if I hug you?” Shiro asked in just as soft a tone, drawing Lance’s attention.

“I… please don’t. I’m sorry, I just can’t-” Lance could feel himself curling inwards, pulling away. 

“Okay. That’s perfectly okay. I want you to know that all of us are here for you. If you want to talk or… just have a distraction. That’s what friends are for.” Shiro smiled softly, standing up and giving Lance some space.

“Th-thank you. I’ve never… had anyone believe me before. Except, Hunk, obviously. Girls have it hard enough trying to tell people, but boys… People can’t seem to grasp the concept. At least, my dad… he couldn’t believe his brother-” Lance cut off, the anxiety of the situation finally taking its toll on his body. He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to hold it in until he made it to a sink or garbage or something. 

He heard someone trying to ask him something, but Hunk cut in, thankfully as Lance was a little too busy losing his lunch in the kitchen sink. 

When he was done, he straightened up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Keith was standing in front of him, holding out a cup of water. 

“Thanks, man.” Lance sighed, taking slow sips of it.

“Is it okay if I ask questions?” Pidge asked, peering out from behind Keith.

Lance nodded, settling his nerves with the cool temperature of the water on his tongue. 

“Was it a one time thing or…” 

Lance sighed, “Uh, he did it a lot. Um, after I told my dad, it got worse. I waited until he had moved out, because I thought I’d never have to see him once I told my dad, but… he’d be over for holidays and… remind me how he’d warned me not to tell. And he’d… say if I said another word about it… he’d move onto Veronica… and even though I hated it so much and just wanted it to stop I couldn’t… I couldn’t let him touch my sister… He’d even leer at her during dinners just to keep me in line.”

Pidge looked sick at Lance’s words and Keith and Shiro was ready to either bash the guy’s face in or put their fist through a wall. Even Allura and Coran, not accustomed to Earth concepts seemed to understand the severity of what Lance was talking about.

“And your dad just  _ let-”  _ Shiro asked, voice shaking with anger. 

“Hey, listen. You can’t do that.” Hunk said quietly, grabbing Shiro by the elbow. “You can’t get angry when he talks about this stuff. It only sets off panic attacks.”

One look at Lance’s ashen face, how he was studying his feet, or the way his hands fumbled with his cup was proof enough. 

“The only reason it stopped was because when my parents got divorced, my mom got custody of us.” Lance shrugged, voice painfully quiet. 

“How can we help, Lance?” Keith finally asked.

“Um, well. I honestly prefer not to talk about it. I only told you guys because… I’m tired of giving him control over my life. Making me feel… Anyways, just. I prefer to avoid contact. It just, really makes my skin crawl. That’s why Hunk always asks me first. It gives me control over my body back, you know? And I… I’m sorry, but I trust him. I… care about all of you, really. I just… I’m not totally there yet, I’m sorry.” Lance met all of their gazes with a quick flick of his eyes before settling back on the water.

“Hey, it’s fine. You have that power, okay? You trust us in your own time, there’s no rush. It’s not affecting Voltron, so you’re good.” Keith smiled, attempting to lighten the mood a little near the end.

Lance returned the smile. “Thank you, guys. This… It really means a lot to me.”

  
  



	2. Sullen Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title altered from the song Sullen Girl by Fiona Apple. It's a wonderful song that can really help you understand what victims go through better than I could ever hope to.   
> For those of you that read the first chapter, I caution you all the more strongly proceeding with this one. As it goes through Lance's life before the first chapter happened, it will deal more strongly with this trauma and it's immediate impact on his life. There is nothing explicit because I refuse to sexualize this or muck it up like 13 Reasons did. The closest you get to an actual event is some interactions with the uncle and vague flashbacks like in the first chapter.   
> There are some Spanish lines in here. I will be completely straightforward in that the only two languages I know are English and French. So if there's cultural stuff I messed up because I got advice from google translate, I profusely apologize. To any Spanish speakers in my audience your advice would be greatly appreciated. I wish to make my work as good as it can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case the summary was unclear, this is set before the prior chapter. It's basically just further backstory.

Double digits was a pretty big deal for Lance. He was starting his final year of elementary school, which was so cool. And, after a year in America, he was finally growing used to its customs and the language. He had even made a superb friend named Hunk and they were going to be in the same class. 

The first day of school was pretty boring and awesome at the same time. The teacher went over classroom expectations which was basically the exact same as every other teacher’s. Their teacher wasn’t Lance’s favorite, either. She was young and inexperienced and strangely strict for a new teacher. 

Recess was definitely Lance’s favorite part of the day. He and Hunk played tag for five minutes before it was just too hot and so they sat in the shade under the massive, beat-up, yellow, plastic tunnel and talked about their summers and expectations for the rest of the year. Near the end, one of the girls shyly came up to Lance and asked him to be her boyfriend. Lance was so ecstatic about already having romantic possibilities, he said yes right away. Hunk grinned at them, inviting the girl to sit down. She did, though Lance didn’t really know how to interact with her so he mostly just kept talking to Hunk. 

Hunk, noticing how she kept glancing back nervously at her friends, made sure to include her in the conversation. Lance reached for her hand and so for the last five minutes, they held hands. Hunk couldn’t stop teasing him all the way back to the classroom. Lance was the over the moon, a big, dorky smirk lighting up his face. 

At home, his   mamá asked him to help his older brothers pick vegetables from the garden. She was really going all out with dinner tonight. Lance tried to figure out why, assuming he’d missed some kind of announcement. It wasn’t until he noticed that his   mamá had set out an extra plate that he realized what was going on.

His uncle was greeted first by Veronica, who was only five at the time. She practically flew towards him. Veronica was going through the “all new people, especially adults are new best friends that often have gifts” phase. Lance was right behind her. His dad’s brother wasn’t his favorite uncle, but their relatives were all extremely close. Lance often tagged along to help Marco and Luis babysit some of his baby cousins. 

Each kid was given a lollipop and a pat on the head. At dinner, Lance sat next to his uncle and was given the unwanted portion of his uncle’s dessert. Lance liked the attention, most of his other aunts and uncles were too focused on Marco’s success in high school and baby Veronica. Luis and he often fell out of the sight of everyone else. What he didn’t like was how there seemed to be a lot of unnecessary contact. Like if Lance’s hand was on the table, his uncle’s hand was resting close enough to touch his. Or fingers were brushing his leg. It just felt weird but he couldn’t figure out why so he just ignored it.

“So he’s going to be staying with us?” Lance asked his mother while he squeezed toothpaste out on his toothbrush.

“Yes, and you will all be expected to keep the place nice and clean for him,  _ mijo.  _ He has had a rough few months and we need to make this as easy as possible for him. So be on your best behavior.”

Lance nodded, trying to keep the mouthful of foam contained in his mouth.  _ “ _ _ ¡Por supuesto! _ _ ” _

“ _ Buen chico,”  _ she ruffled Lance’s hair and left to prepare for bed.

His uncle appeared in the doorway of the bathroom as he was drying his mouth. “Hey,  _ Cariño.”  _ He crouched down to be closer to eye level with Lance, but Lance had always been rather tall for his age so now Lance was looking down at him. “You have your  _  mamá’s  _ eyes, did you know that?”

 

****

 

“Lance, hey. Hold on,” the teacher called as the other kids ran out the door to the playground. 

Lance froze, looking up at her. “Yes?”

“I…” She stared at him, and the look made Lance’s whole body feel like an ice sculpture. They were alone and his heart reminded him of the way those butterflies fled when he and his little sister tried to catch them. 

“Can I, uh-” His tongue was dry, and he swallowed hard, trying to find some way to get the words out. He needed out of this room. She was drawing nearer, her hand was near his shoulder, “Can I go, please?”

She withdrew, looking him up and down for a few moments. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I, I don’t know what came over me.”

He could tell she was lying, somewhere in the back of his mind he could see the overwhelming concern in her eyes. He was too relieved to care, too frightened of her seeing right through him. He felt like every eye on him lately could see how gross and sick he was now. 

His girlfriend had taken one look at him that next day and ended it pretty much right away. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. 

What he did know was that it hurt to run, or move, and he hated everything about it. More and more, he just wanted to pull away from all the noise of everyone, maybe just take a nap. It wasn’t like he was exactly sleeping most nights anyways. 

“No, listen.” Hunk was saying emphatically, plopping down on the grass next to him. “If you don’t want to play tag, I’m sitting with you.”

Lance rubbed his face, wondering how best to plead for space. He was going to crack. It was almost on the tip of his tongue. But Hunk probably wouldn’t understand. Lance didn’t even understand. He just knew everything hurt and he felt so… icky. 

“Lance, are you doing okay? You…” People kept doing that, trying to meet his eyes. As if they could stare hard enough to see everything Lance was desperately trying to conceal from them.

“I’m great,” he was grinning, forcing himself to make contact with Hunk’s shoulder and give his friend a slight shove.

 

****

 

It took one week of finally getting a decent night’s rest. Of not staying up panicking for the slightest creak of his door opening, that heady smell of cigars wrapping around him, blanketing him, drowning him. The relief was so insurmountable, and the logic of everything finally broke him down. 

He had been dying to say something for so long, but he never felt like he was even allowed to speak. He still felt terrified. It had been years of silence and his father and uncle were close. But surely… surely… 

The word still felt wrong. It was four letters, small and insignificant. It wasn’t several syllables or earth shattering like the last three years had felt. Learning it made him angry. He wanted something that defined it better. 

He only hated the word more when his father stood there in front of him going through six million facial features trying to understand what his child was saying to him. And then, he set his jaw and Lance wanted to die more than any thirteen year old should ever wish for. It was almost more painful to listen to his father scream than any of those nights had been when he thought he actually was going to die that time.

He froze up, defaulting to the third F scenario no one ever discussed. He was never able to flee and the one time he tried to fight, he was choked, so he just froze and tried to ignore how awful everything felt, just wait for it to end. 

He was sent to his room, and was up all night, his little sister crying in confusion in his arms while they tried to block out their parents screaming at each other. 

He swore on every single particle inside of his body that he was never going to say another word about it again. He was just hurting everyone and clearly no one was going to believe him. He was free from it now, there was no point in bringing it back up.

He had waited too long; he couldn't prove it. His uncle was pretty good at covering his tracks. 

_ “ _ _ ¿Por qué están peleando?”  _ Veronica whispered up at him, sniffling harder.

Lance just shook his head, holding her closer. Veronica was one of the few people lately he could remotely bear contact with. Maybe it was her age or her innocence or just the pure knowledge that it was his job to protect her and there was no way she could hurt him. She was comforting him about as much as he was her, she just didn’t know it.

****

The visits were becoming more and more frequent again and it was quelling to this unbelievable panic inside him. He was trapped and everything was just repeating over and over. He could hardly even swim anymore for a multitude of reasons. He kept getting bruises and he was running out of excuses for why he would be so slow of late on the low end of laps. 

Four laps felt like pure torture, six had him almost crying. In the end he quit. He kept telling himself it was for Veronica. He’d do anything for her. 

She was happy, with her two best friends in the whole world. They went everywhere together. He lived watching her smile and know without a doubt she wasn’t faking it. She wasn’t suffering through episodes were her heart was trying to escape from the confines of her ribcage and just a complete inability to breathe. 

It wasn’t all for her, though. It was for the simple hope of relieving some of the pain he was in. It was easier pretending he was just being selfless though. It felt less like giving up that way. It felt less like he was losing one more thing he loved to this thing consuming his whole life. 

“Lance?” Hunk was trying to set his hand on Lance’s shoulder. He had gotten really good at dodging casual contact like this. It was almost like he had a radar and a list of countermoves running across his eyelids. He sidestepped it, scanning the horizon like a bird had caught his attention. 

“Lance, hey, come on. You’ve got to talk to me. You don’t just quit swimming and shrug it off. You love swimming. We’ve talked about this team since we were little.” Hunk said, grabbing his wrist. 

Lance hadn’t seen that one coming, too busy trying to shrug off Hunk’s comment. 

His wrists were above his head, that door squeaking incessantly even though it had only squealed that one time, like clockwork to alert him to a second presence in his room. He was trapped again and again and again. No control or say so. No yes or no. Words didn’t matter. It was just pain. It never stopped hurting. And every single fucking time he wished he’d split something, break something, anything to make it stop. Maybe he’d be left to just bleed to death. 

“Hey, buddy. Can you hear me? What’s going on?”

_ Stay still,  _ mijo.  _ You’ll just make it worse by moving. Stop crying, it’s just a pair of sheets, bud. _

Fingers were snapping in his vision but he couldn’t move. Everything was wrong and he just needed to wait it out. Long enough and the voices would stop and he’d be able to breathe again.

“Lance, say something. You’re scaring me. Lance. Lance, I swear, I’ll get a teacher if yo-”

“He’s raping me.” The words were out of his mouth so fast like Hunk had punched him in the stomach and forced him to spit it out.

That made everything worse. Oh God. Hunk was never going to speak to him ever again. He was losing everything and everyone and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He just froze like some pathetic actor that forgot all his lines. He wasn’t worth anything, any value he ever had was robbed of him. And he was just so tired of being afraid all the goddamn time.

Hunk wasn’t touching him anymore and that was really helpful. 

“Okay. Okay. I think you’re having a panic attack, bud-”

_ “Don’t call me that.”  _ Lance hissed through wheezing breaths.

Hunk nodded, “That’s fine. Lance, I think you’re having a panic attack. It kinda looks like the stuff my niece was going through. I… I’m sorry, I never payed very much attention to how they calmed her down. Uh.. how can I help, Lance?” 

He didn’t know he didn’t know he didn’t know. He never had options before. Fuck fuck fuck. “Back up, please, please. Just back up a little. More.”

Hunk followed every instruction without fail. It took a long while and Lance was trembling so hard a breeze could have knocked him over, but eventually he calmed down. 

Hunk got him water from the closest shop on the boardwalk and they sat on a bench until he was ready to explain. 

He talked a little bit about those first few years, trying his hardest to come back to Earth after another flare up of anxiety when Hunk threatened to turn his father in, boiling with rage, face screwed up just like his uncle’s had been that very first time five years ago. There wasn’t hands around his neck. He was in the open air with his best friend and he could breathe just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If someone reaches out to you asking for help, telling you something serious like this is happening to them, don't ignore them. Don't wait for someone else to notice and reach out. Don't be a bystander. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated. I could really use continued feedback on how well I'm handling this subject matter as again, I haven't had this experience. I do not wish to offend or be insensitive. If there's something I can improve on or a common misconception I used that is inaccurate, please inform me. Thank you all! Stay safe and don't be afraid to speak up.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading.


End file.
